When Friends Become Enemies
by angelyuki789
Summary: Friendships are tested under the stress of war, and sometimes it's just better to forget...
1. When Friends Become Enemies

Sidoli's. It was a lovely ice cream parlour, one where many Welsh and Italians alike spent their free time. Ever since the Italian immigration to South Wales, it had become a very popular place to go.  
This was the same for the personifications of the countries themselves.  
"Bella~ Are-a you not going to-a finish yours?" the young Italian man, Feliciano Vargas, asked the Welsh girl who sat at the opposite side of the table from him. His eyes were big and wide, making him look innocent as he gave a slight puppy-dog expression.  
"Hmm?" she looked up from the glass bowl, tilting her head in confusion before she laughed, "Feliciano, just because we're ffrindiau, it doesn't mean I'm automatically going to let you have my mint ice cream. It's my favourite, so you should know by now that I will finish it. Besides, you already had your favourite and ate it all! Let me enjoy mine, like you enjoyed your coconut."  
He sighed, feigning a hurt expression, which caused her to roll her eyes. No one could come between Rhiannon Davies and mint ice cream. No one.  
"Si, si, ma! What if-a you looked away, and-a the ice cream was-a gone?"  
"Then I know you'd have taken it, ond I still wouldn't be happy about it. I'd have to keep a fork with me at all times, just so I could poke you with it."  
"Ah, Rhia, that is-a so cruel!"  
"I'm kidding, Feli, I'm kidding!" she laughed, finishing with her ice cream. She leant over to pat him on the shoulder and ruffle his hair.  
The Welsh of the two was very thankful for time like this, especially since she didn't have many other people she could act this way with. Her siblings were off doing their own things, and most of the time arguments arose when they were around each other, but to be able to be with someone she could call a close friend, well... it wasn't something she was going to take for granted.  
"Diolch yn fawr, Feliciano. For everything."  
"I -a don't know what I-a did, ma you're-a welcome."

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Many of the nations had become restless, watching with dreadful anticipation, as their leaders were getting ready for something that would tear the world into two sides yet again. While a lot of their people were still clueless, they knew that in a few years they would have to make that harsh decision, to choose whom they would ally themselves with.  
It seemed just like yesterday that a few of them had visited the blonde American, enjoying the roaring twenties with him in his country, and having the time of their lives. It was a shame that the thirties would bring about something so horrible.  
"Feliciano…? I'm worried for the world."  
The Italian looked up from his friend's notebook, the one she used to write song lyrics and poetry in, and gave her a sad smile. He knew what she was on about; her recent writing had given it away, even if it was somewhat cryptic and always hidden behind clever wording.  
"I-a know, bella, I-a know… ma…" he sighed, shaking his head. Nothing he could say would change what they all knew was bound to happen, "We will-a get through this. I-a know that for a fact."  
If only he knew that his words would be proven wrong.  
It's strange; the different things people will do to protect the ones they love. You can either hold them close and hope for the best, even if you endanger them more... or you can push them away for good, to spare them of the inevitable pain that is about to come.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

"Rhiannon, don't-a walk away from-a me!"  
The Italian chased his Welsh friend down the street, ignoring the police sirens around them.  
It was time.  
The time to get on your own side, to fight the war for the name of your country and people, had arrived much sooner than they had wanted it to...  
Italians were being taken from their homes, left and right, even if they had been born in the country. That's what angered the people most; the fact that their friends, the ones who had been with them from the very start, were now outlaws, even if they had done nothing wrong.  
It hurt the nation. In more ways than one.  
Which is why Rhiannon kept running, wishing he would stop in his chase, and just go home. She didn't want to see them treated like that, not his people, nor him.  
The building she finally hid inside was an old office, hadn't been used in years, yet it was still being searched for those that had gone into hiding. Not even the police wanted to do what they had been ordered to. There were so many Italians in the South Wales area, that even they were bound to have friends of that nationality.  
Feliciano did not give up. He would not leave her, not before apologising. He didn't want there to be ill feelings between them, not after everything they had been through. They were friends, and that had to count for something. Which is why, when he finally cornered her in one of the rooms, he held her close.  
"Stop it, Feliciano-!"  
_**SMACK!**_  
Time seemed to stand entirely still in that moment, everything rushing to a halt and becoming deadly quiet. If a pin were to drop, the sound would have resonated around the room.  
"I didn't m-mean to..."  
There was no way she could take that back. The damage had already been done, and it was terribly visible to all eyes that would fall upon his face. A blazing red hand mark painted his cheek, a depressed look now staining his honey-brown coloured eyes.  
"Si, you are-a right, bella. Would-a friends do-a this to each other?"  
His words and tone pierced her heart, much more than the thought of losing him did. With this, though... it was obvious that she was already starting to lose him anyway.  
"Dim... they wouldn't... which is why you need to leave."  
Tears began to fall from her eyes. She didn't want this. She didn't want any of this...  
And yet that was what wars did. They hurt, broke, tore hearts in two.  
Wars gave nations scars, terrified their people...  
It wasn't fair.  
"I-a don't want to-a leave you, Rhiannon, not-a without..."  
He couldn't finish his sentence after that. 'Not without apologising'... to her? Hadn't _she _been the one who had hit _him _just then? He never would have imagined her doing something like that! And yet, he couldn't be mad at her, not really. The whole situation was a mess, and an emotional one at that.  
"Forgive me for this, Feliciano," she placed her hands on either side of his face, resting her forehead against his, "Don't move."  
The young Italian man blinked, a confused look on his face as she suddenly drew her hands back away from his head. He had no recollection of what she had just done - if she had actually done anything - or what it would do to his memory.  
"I promise I-a won't forget-a you, bella. You are an important-a friend of-a mine."  
"I'll write to you... I promise."  
Two promises of many that they would both break.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x

The young Italian man took a step back, surveying the area around him. The aftermath of the war was now so very clear, even just one day on. Though what saddened him the most was not the sight in front of him... it was more of the sight that he had forgotten.  
There was a nagging feeling, a tiny voice in the back of his mind, telling him that there was something important, but he could not remember.  
"Mr Vargas, is there anything we can do?" came a voice, pulling him from his inner thoughts.  
"I... I-a will be okay."  
Silent tears streamed down his face, tears of anguish and guilt, yet he himself could not fathom why he was like this.

Meanwhile, in a different country, there was another poor unfortunate soul dealing with similar emotions. Though this time, the girl knew why she was so completely distressed... and it pained her knowing that she would soon forget it all.  
"Miss, I do believe it is time that you spoke with your brother."  
Ignoring the English Captain, she turned to look up at the sky. All she wanted to do was take this short time, where her memory was still intact, to remember the good memories.  
"I wonder what's worse; losing a friend due to these horrific events that you know will never return, yet you will be able to come to terms and accept it as you learn to move on and cope, keeping those special memories close to your heart... or to lose a friend due to memory completely, and never be able to relive those precious moments in your head as they no longer exist."  
She had lived far longer than most, and would continue to do so, yet such a question she still did not have an answer for.  
"Hwyl fawr, fy ffrind..."  
Somewhere in her mind, the smile of the one she was closest to vanished. The friend that she had held dear was a nobody, causing her pain to cease existing.  
"I think I'll speak to fy mrawd now. There is a lot to do."


	2. The Letters That Were Never Meant To Be

Anwyl ffrind,

I'm not sure why I'm writing these letters, seeing as I will never send them, ond I take great comfort in the thought of knowing I wrote them anyway. I suppose you could say these are more like diary entries than letters.

Right now I am on my way to the countryside with the children who need to be evacuated. There's a mixture of excitement and sadness. The young think they're going on an adventure, while the older ones know... they know that they might not see their parents ever again because of this war that is brewing.

I have a young baby with me, one whose mother died in front of my eyes. She was on her way back when she was shot... and by who, well, we all know.

There's no need for names, however we must remember that this is down to our leaders, and not us as individuals.

I hate how they treated you and your people, I hate how they kicked you out, even the ones who were born here. If it were down to me, none of this would be happening. None of it.

"Those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it."

They never learn, do they? And they never will.

I know that, when this is all over, you and I... we will not recognise each other. Mae'n ddrwg gen i, fy ffrind, ond... losing you was never something that I wanted to happen. Making us both forget will make it easier, for you, and for me.

Caru,  
Rhia.


End file.
